Count On Me(62)

When she feels herself getting overwhelmed by sensory stuff, she lets me know without saying a word and I hold her until it passes. It’s crazy, but for the longest time all I thought I was good for, was playing football and causing shit and now, I’m seeing that everything I thought is wrong. I was made for this and I can’t even explain how much that means.

The more I’m there for her, the less my mom’s words haunt me, almost like I’m doing what she knew I would all along. I’m actually feeling the changes too; they aren’t just inside me. I don’t hate as deeply as before, which is proven with the way I am with Dillon now.

He came up to us about two days after I asked her to be mine, trying to talk to me. When he didn’t get his way, he went through Isabelle the way I expected him to, except her being her, she did answer him back. Eventually he started coming around more and he didn’t try to talk to me. He only talked to her. It’s easier to not want to kill him and see what she’s seen for the last two weeks when I see the way he is with her.

We won’t ever be what we were, but if this is real and he means what he says, I can’t hate him anymore.

Does it mean that I trust him completely or that I think he’s not playing a game that somehow involves my girlfriend? No. I still think there’s more going on, but until I can find some kind of proof, I’ve got to go with the flow.

“You asked her to the dance yet?”

After talking with Coach, I’ve just been chilling in the locker room, already suited up for practice and waiting for the others to show up. I’d been so caught up listening to her voice file and my own thoughts; I didn’t realize I wasn’t alone.

“You mean the ‘everyone gets drunk, makes asses of themselves and screws like rabbits’ thing that happens in a couple days?”

“Yeah, that’s the one. You ask her yet?”

Truth is, I haven’t asked her and it’s because I’m afraid to. I bought the tickets at the beginning of the week, wanting nothing more than to take my girlfriend to the dance after I play one of the most important games of my life. Having the tickets means nothing though, not when I’m not sure how to bring it up with her.

She’s never been to a football game before and I know for a fact that she’s never been to a school dance either. I’m not sure if it’s because it’s not her thing or because of everything she’s been through, but it makes me wary to ask. I’m not a school dance guy, but this year, it’s all different.

I did these things before because it was a way to get the people around me to shut up about it. I actually want to go to this game, win it with her cheering in the crowd, get dressed, pick her up and spend the night with her wrapped tightly in my arms while we dance together. I want to experience everything instead of just gliding through it after being forced.

I’m just not sure she feels the same. So I’ve kept my damn mouth shut even though we walk by the decorations every single day.

“No, not yet. I’m not really sure it’s her thing.”

“It’s every girl’s thing, K.”

“What did I tell you about that?”

“Jeez man. Sorry. Look, I know she’s different, but I’ll bet my position on the team that she wants to go to the dance. You need to ask her before someone else does.”

I finally get on a level where I don’t want to punch him in the face every time I see him and he has to go and say something like that. I’m not against most of what he said, but the way he sounds when he talks about someone else asking her, makes me insane.

“No one is going to ask her to the dance but me.”

He can think he’s changed all he wants, but he definitely won’t be taking her. That will happen over my dead body.

“Chill man, I just mean that since you two hooked up, people are noticing her more. She’s not quite the freak she used to be.”

“She’s mine. I don’t care whose noticing her, they aren’t getting her. Ever.”

“You really like her don’t you?”

This is the strangest conversation. I can’t believe it. Us sitting around talking about my feelings for Isabelle, since a week ago I wanted to run him down with my car.

“Screw off. I’m not talking about that shit with you.”

“So that’s a yes.”

I throw the balled up towel at him and laugh as it hits its mark. It’s only when he tosses it back that I realize what’s happening. It’s like old times with Dillon again. The stupid way we used to be before the team, girls and competition got in the way. He’s obviously not the only one that missed it because the way I feel now, I did too.